The Circle Turns
by Ildera
Summary: What was Aniarel's parents' story? If you don't know who Aniarel is, read 'Unusual Heritage' this is a prequel. Hope you enjoy it. PLZ RR! COMPLETE
1. Mischief

Hey there! I figured that since so many of you liked 'Unusual Heritage' I'd have a go at a sequel. However, I have no inspiration!  
  
So while that's in the works, I thought I'd share a bit about Aniarel's parents and the reason they had to leave Middle-earth. Anyone interested?  
  
If you like it, review! If you don't like it, review! And thanx again to everyone who reviewed the first story, you really made it worthwhile!  
  
If you haven't read 'Unusual Heritage', don't worry; I don't think it's necessary. Of course, you can if you want to, don't let me stop you!  
  
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin . . .  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
The Circle Turns  
  
Merry laughter filled the gardens of Rivendell. Elrond gazed out over the silvery waters of the river, glad to set aside, even for a few moments, the dark cloud that was growing in his mind. There was a polite cough behind him. He turned to face his visitors.  
  
'Licomias, thank you for joining me. You are well, I trust?'  
  
The tall elf nodded at his lord, and moved forward to take a seat.  
  
'If you don't mind my being blunt, Elrond, what am I here for?'  
  
Elrond smiled at the young man.  
  
Licomias had always been special to him. He was one of Celebrian's closest companion's sons, and much loved by Elrond's late wife. He sighed. He still missed Celebrian, often wondering why she had chosen to go into the West instead of remaining with him to see her illness through. He had not heard from her since her sudden departure. But he had determined to keep relations with her companions for her memory, and so had become very good friends with many of them. Licomias was one such friend, closer than the others because he could read Elrond's moods without any trouble.  
  
He was doing so now, and apparently not liking what he was seeing, if the frown on his face was anything to go by. Elrond swallowed a smile.  
  
'I have a favour to ask of you, my friend.'  
  
Licomias raised an eyebrow.  
  
'If it's anything like the last one, no,' he said, his hazel eyes flashing warningly. The sunlight played across his black hair, giving him a faintly ethereal look.  
  
Elrond laughed.  
  
'No, nothing like that. I'm not going to send you to the dwarves again, don't worry.'  
  
'Good. That was not an experience I'd like to repeat.'  
  
'You are aware, I suppose, that Galadriel selects handmaidens for herself every decade?'  
  
Licomias snorted, shifting in the chair.  
  
'Who isn't?'  
  
'Well,' Elrond continued, with a smile, 'she has chosen one of our young maidens to join her.'  
  
'Where are you going with this, Elrond?'  
  
'Young Jenien has no knowledge of the world beyond Rivendell, so Arwen tells me, and will need an escort of some kind. Now, I cannot spare any of the soldiers, so -'  
  
'You thought of me,' Licomias finished. 'I'm touched.'  
  
His sarcasm did not go un-noticed, but Elrond let it pass.  
  
'You are the best trained fighter we have, Licomias, and yet you refuse to join the guards in defending Rivendell. Therefore you leave yourself open to this kind of opportunity. Jenien will need someone to protect her. She is very young, and not at all experienced in worldly matters, so I'm told. If not for me, then for her sake, Licomias. Take her to Lothlorien.'  
  
The younger elf gazed impassively at him for a while, then gave a gusty sigh.  
  
'Oh, all right,' he said snappily. 'Since it means so much to you.'  
  
Elrond smiled.  
  
'Thank you, my friend. You'll be leaving the day after tomorrow.'  
  
Licomias got to his feet with a grunt.  
  
'Yes, well. Make sure she knows what to expect, Elrond. I am not baby- sitting on this trip.'  
  
Elrond nodded and watched his friend leave. Then he turned to the figure in the shadows.  
  
'What do you think, my daughter?'  
  
Arwen stifled a giggle.  
  
'I think he's going to get the shock of his life.'  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
Licomias scanned the crowds of people, wanting at least a glimpse of his new responsibility. He had heard all kinds of stories about her, from her naiveté to wild ideas that she knew all there was to know about weapons and fighting. The elf wasn't quite sure what to make of her.  
  
A loud laugh drew his attention to a far corner of the room, where Arwen was entertaining her friends. Elrond appeared at his elbow.  
  
'You see the small maiden by Arwen's side? That's Jenien, Licomias.'  
  
He drifted off, leaving Licomias to stare incredulously at the girl.  
  
She barely came up to Arwen's shoulder in height, her tiny frame perfectly proportioned. Slender, delicate, and fragile were all words he would have used to describe her. As she turned, he felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. She was beautiful. Her features were dainty, her green eyes sparkling with an inner light. Long coppery curls hung down her back, framing her face. No wonder Galadriel had chosen her. She was perfect.  
  
Realising he was staring, Licomias hurriedly looked away. Such beauty would have to be protected on this journey, he thought, the orcs must not be allowed to have her. He took a swift swallow of his drink, his mind already working on how to make the journey easier on the young girl.  
  
Arwen saw him turn away from the corner of her eye, and touched Jenien's shoulder. The small girl looked up at her, her gaze shifting to where Arwen was pointing.  
  
'That's Licomias.'  
  
Jenien studied the tall elf closely. He held himself like a warrior, his movements sure and calculated. She could see his hand hovering over where his sword would be. Black hair framed a face dominated by hazel eyes. His shoulders were broad, well in keeping with his tapered body. She guessed it would take a lot to wear him out. Briefly Jenien wondered what he had thought when he saw her, dismissing it immediately as irrelevant. People only saw her beauty on first impressions, never her posture or the way she carried herself. She smiled. This Licomias was in for a shock.  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
Dawn rose clear and cool the morning they left. Licomias knocked quietly on Jenien's door.  
  
'Yes?'  
  
'Are you ready, my lady?'  
  
The door opened.  
  
'Of course, I'm ready.'  
  
It was all Licomias could do to stop his jaw dropping. Jenien was dressed in the way of the Mirkwood elves, light tunic and trews, with soft boots. She carried her weapons and belt in one hand. Her hair was tied in a knot at her neck and there was a well made pack lying on the bed.  
  
'Just give me a minute to put these on,' she said, gesturing with the belt.  
  
'Do you need any help?'  
  
Jenien snorted in a very unladylike fashion.  
  
'No, thank you.'  
  
As he watched, she swung the belt around her waist, slipped her knives into it, and hung her bow and quiver on her back. Looking up, she smiled.  
  
'Ready to go, then?'  
  
Not trusting himself to speak, Licomias opened the door for her, nodding as she stepped past him. Elrond and Arwen had set him up. This one didn't need protecting at all, she was more than capable of looking after herself. Why had he been made to go along then?  
  
They rode out of Rivendell in the crisp morning air, to embark on a journey that would take them further than they could ever have imagined. 


	2. Love

Jenien watched her companion silently across the crackling flames. They had hardly spoken a word to one another all day, breaking the silence only to inquire as to each other's well-being. She sighed. She truly hadn't meant for him to have been as gobsmacked as he was at her competency. If only Arwen hadn't been involved . . . Much as Jenien loved her friend, she couldn't help but feel her life would be simpler if she would keep her nose out of things.  
  
Licomias passed her a bowl.  
  
'I hope it's to your liking, my lady.'  
  
That was it. Jenien decided she had had enough. She put the bowl down gently, and locked eyes with the surprised elf.  
  
'Licomias, you do know my name, don't you?'  
  
He looked wary.  
  
'Yes, my lady.'  
  
'Then kindly use it. I won't break.'  
  
Licomias hid a smile.  
  
'Yes, Jenien.'  
  
They sat in silence for another while, each immersed in their own thoughts. Then Licomias spoke.  
  
'If you don't mind my asking, Jenien, how is it that you know so much about the ways of the road? I was under the impression you had no experience of life outside Rivendell.'  
  
Jenien laughed.  
  
'Whoever gave you that notion?'  
  
He shrugged.  
  
'I am not of Elrond's people, Licomias. I was born in Mirkwood. That's how I know the ways of our race.'  
  
'Mirkwood? Whatever were you doing in Rivendell, then?'  
  
Jenien snorted.  
  
'Visiting Arwen, though I was beginning to wish I hadn't.'  
  
Licomias frowned in confusion.  
  
'Why?'  
  
'She's been teasing me about Legolas.'  
  
Seeing the confusion on his face deepen, Jenien hastened to explain.  
  
'Legolas is Thranduil's son, the prince of Mirkwood. We've been friends since childhood, and somehow Arwen has got it into her head that we are destined for each other.'  
  
'Are you?'  
  
'Goodness, no! If we got married, we'd kill each other!'  
  
Licomias joined her laughter, trying to shake the vague feeling of jealousy that had settled over him.  
  
'What about you?' Jenien asked. 'Are you Rivendell, or otherwise?'  
  
He smiled, shaking his head.  
  
'No, I'm Rivendell.'  
  
Jenien laughed suddenly.  
  
'Is the old rhyme true? Rivendell born and Rivendell bred -'  
  
'- strong in the arm, and thick in the head,' Licomias finished. 'I wouldn't know. Do I come across as all brawn, no brain?'  
  
She pretended to think about it.  
  
'No, not really,' she conceded. 'It's a shame though. It's a fantastic rhyme.'  
  
The indignant look on Licomias' face dissipated under her peals of silvery laughter. He sat back with a sheepish grin.  
  
'My mother was Lothlorien,' he told her, once she had calmed down.  
  
Jenien sobered, seeing the sadness on his features.  
  
'Was?'  
  
'She was Celebrian's closest companion,' he explained. 'She followed her into the West after they was attacked. Elrond took me in after that. He's a true friend.'  
  
Jenien nodded. It had been terrible when Celebrian had been attacked on the road to Rivendell. She'd been hit with a poisoned arrow, and somehow never quite recovered from its after-effects. After years of trying to live with the pain, she left Elrond, and Rivendell, to journey to the West. No one had heard anything of her since.  
  
'I never knew my mother,' she said quietly. 'She and my father died in an attack on our village a few hours after I was born.'  
  
Licomias gazed compassionately on her.  
  
'In many ways, it is better that you never knew her, Jenien. I know that my heart will grieve for my mother until the day I die.'  
  
They stared into the flames, united in sorrow. Then Jenien roused herself.  
  
'Well, on that high note -' Licomias laughed - 'I think I'll turn in. Good night, Licomias.'  
  
Hazel eyes flickered over her as she rolled into her blankets.  
  
'Good night, Jenien.'  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
'I understand that,' Licomias was saying. 'All I want to know is if you will buy these horses!'  
  
Jenien sighed. Looking up, she caught the innkeeper's wife's eye and went over to the woman. Having already spent the night there, the little elf would have thought her companion would have known not to go to the man of the house. Still, he was male himself.  
  
She grimaced. He'd spent the last four days trying to keep the pace at one he thought a lady could take. It was only when she had overtaken him the previous morning that they had reached anything resembling a good speed.  
  
While the men argued, the women settled the bill, including the sale of the horses. Jenien embraced the plump woman, sharing a warm smile with the children of the house. She went over to where Licomias was gesticulating wildly.  
  
'Licomias, we really must be going,' she said.  
  
He paused for a moment to look at her.  
  
'I haven't arranged the sale, my lady.'  
  
She smiled at the innkeeper, who was receiving the same treatment from his wife.  
  
'That doesn't matter,' she told him, placing a small hand on his arm. 'It's all settled.'  
  
He stared at the hand on his arm, raising his gaze to her eyes. Licomias took the hint, placing his own hand over hers.  
  
'Right. Well, it's been a pleasure doing business with you. Good day.'  
  
He grabbed his pack and followed Jenien from the inn.  
  
Settling into a steady pace beside her, he asked,  
  
'How did you manage that?'  
  
She smiled mischievously.  
  
'Just use your eyes, Licomias. That innkeeper doesn't blow his own nose without his wife's permission. It stood to reason that she would be the one to make the deal with.'  
  
'Oh.'  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his face fall as he realised what a fool he must have looked. If only he knew; he could never look a fool to her. He was her soulmate, of that she was certain. Why else would she feel so moved every time his eyes rested on her?  
  
Licomias berated himself inwardly for his lack of sense. It was only the latest in a long line of misguided attempts to impress her on this journey. He had tried to keep the speed down to spare her feet; she'd overtaken him. He'd attempted to show some skill at hunting; she'd almost made him swallow his tongue by sneaking up on him. And now this. Perfect.  
  
Jenien turned slightly and smiled at him as they wandered off the road and into the trees. The tall elf tried to still his hammering heart. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. Only days ago, he had been known as one who didn't believe in love, and now he was falling, hard, for a young woman he hardly knew.  
  
Suddenly, a sound caught his ears. He put a hand out to still his companion, a finger to his lips. Jenien frowned at him, nodding her assent at his request for silence. She watched, enthralled, as he silently unsheathed his sword, indicating for her to arm herself. She did so, her green eyes scanning the forest around them. She could feel her fear freezing over her heart. What was going on?  
  
Then she heard it. The sound of many feet running towards them, the grunts and war-cries of orcs. A patrol was passing through the woods and would soon be upon them. She wondered where they were, the sound seemed to come from all around them. Licomias turned her gently, to face the west. She gave him a quizzical look; that was where the sound was quietest.  
  
He was peering into the trees. As she gazed at him in some confusion, a small smile curved his lips, and he pointed. She stared, but she could see nothing. Licomias gestured for her to look again, confident in his own ability. Jenien returned her gaze to the trees, a little concerned at her seeming inability to see what was there. A flicker of movement caught her eye, and then she saw them, a howling mass of orcs and goblins, thundering through the woods.  
  
Their destination was not them, she noticed, but far off to their right. There were too many there for this to be an ordinary patrol. Jenien exchanged a glance with Licomias. They knew of the darkness rising in the South, in Mordor. The Dark Lord Sauron was calling his minions to him.  
  
Licomias pulled Jenien to his side, pressing his back against a wide- trunked tree. They stood, motionless, as the hundreds of creatures ran past, heedless of their silent observers. The two elves waited until the army had passed, hardly daring to breathe for fear they would be noticed.  
  
Jenien gave a great sigh and stepped forward into the clearing, her daggers falling to her sides in relief. She turned back to Licomias, who was still pressed against the tree, his eyes darting about them in confusion. Suddenly, he leapt forward with a cry, pushing her to the ground.  
  
She looked up in anger to see him impaled on an orc's sword, the jagged blade cutting deep into his chest. Jenien struggled to her feet, rushing to Licomias' aid. She lashed out with her daggers, and the orc fell, lifeless, to the forest floor. The little elf fell to her knees beside her fallen companion, almost sobbing in terror as she tried to find some sign that he still lived. She was rewarded with an agonised shout as she wrenched the blackened blade from his chest. Licomias gave her a weak smile, swallowing against the blood that rose in his throat.  
  
'Leave me,' he rasped.  
  
Jenien could feel tears beginning to run down her cheeks as she grasped his hands tightly.  
  
'I won't do that,' she promised, trying to see some way of saving him.  
  
  
  
They were only half a mile from Mirkwood. If only she had remained by his side until he'd told her to move, they would be on their way there by now. The dying elf reached up with a bloodstained hand and stroked her cheek.  
  
'You are my light . . . my strength. Be strong . . .'  
  
He stiffened suddenly and his eyes rolled. Jenien threw back her head and screamed, one long terrible sound of indefinable grief. Her sobs echoed through the forest. 


	3. Joy

He rolled over, groaning as the movement brought intense pain to the wound in his chest. Blinking in the sunlight, he gazed around the unfamiliar environment.  
  
He was in a fair-sized room, propped up on pillows in a bed; the timber it was made from still bore its bark and natural shape. Two other beds were either side of his. In one lay a young elven man Licomias had never seen before. One wall was cut away as a balcony window, revealing a beautiful woodland view; not quite Lothlorien, but still stunning.  
  
Licomias sighed and relaxed back onto the pillows. He reasoned he must be in Mirkwood, which begged the question; how? The last thing he remembered was lying in Jenien's lap on the floor of a forest clearing, certain he was about to die. Odd that he remembered that so clearly. She had been crying for him, deep sorrow clear in her eyes. He recalled how ironic he'd found it, that he should discover his importance to her just as he left this life.  
  
He stiffened again, suddenly anxious. Where was Jenien? Had she been brought here, too? Perhaps she had continued on her journey to Lothlorien. He wouldn't blame her. The last thing she needed was someone slowing her down. Galadriel did not like to be kept waiting. An image of the little elf maiden's face came to him, unbidden. He smiled unconsciously.  
  
The door swung open, and another unfamiliar elf walked in. He checked Licomias' wound, clicking his tongue in satisfaction.  
  
'It would appear, my lord, that you are healing very well. You may get up this afternoon, if you'd like.'  
  
'Yes, I would, very much,' Licomias said, pulling himself a little more upright. 'I was wondering, sir, if you could tell me what befell the lady Jenien after our encounter with the orcs?'  
  
The elf laughed.  
  
'I'm no sir, I'm just Lewin, the king's healer. And yes, I can tell you exactly what happened. I was one of the ones who found you.'  
  
Licomias stared at him incredulously.  
  
'I was volunteered into the patrol that day,' he was told with a grimace. 'It wasn't my idea. Anyway, while we were out, we heard someone scream, so naturally we followed the sound to its source.'  
  
'Naturally,' Licomias agreed, wondering why he'd chosen to ask the healer.  
  
'We found young Jenien sobbing over you. You'd been run through the chest with an orc blade - though I'm sure you already knew that - and you'd passed out. Dear little thing, she thought you were dead. She was quite distraught. Anyway, we brought you back here, and patched you up. You've been drifting in and out of consciousness for days now.'  
  
'Lady Jenien?'  
  
Lewin looked blank for a moment, then smiled.  
  
'Of course, you're worried about your lady! Well, she met with the king and his son, and they have been keeping her busy during your . . . incapacitation. She sat by your side for four days and nights before we could persuade her to get some sleep of her own. And she's been in to see you every day. She won't hear of leaving you to continue her journey. She's says either you both go, or neither.'  
  
Lewin sighed.  
  
'She's really quite a romantic. But then, she always was. You must mean a great deal to her for Jenien to neglect Prince Legolas in favour of sitting by your side. They're best friends, you know.'  
  
Licomias rolled his eyes.  
  
'What about the Lady?'  
  
'Galadriel? Oh, she'll be fine. Jenien sent her a message, telling her she'd be late in taking up her duties.'  
  
The injured elf groaned.  
  
'How long have we been here?'  
  
'A little under two months,' was the reply.  
  
'What?'  
  
Licomias could hardly believe it. One, that he'd been out of it so long, and two, that Jenien had refused to leave him. A warm feeling spread through him. Maybe she did care for him.  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
That evening, Lewin dressed him, supporting Licomias' still weakened body to the balcony that overlooked the gardens of the palace. He was sat comfortably in a chair by the rail, where he could enjoy the beauty of the gardens in peace. That peace was soon interrupted, though, by a light knocking on the door.  
  
'Come in,' he called, not turning around.  
  
He heard the door swing inwards, and the visitor step inside. A woman, he guessed, from the swish of fabric.  
  
'Licomias?' said a quietly familiar voice.  
  
He turned. Jenien was standing by the door, seemingly afraid to approach.  
  
'What's wrong?'  
  
She gave him a shy smile.  
  
'Lewin told me if I tired you, he'd wouldn't let me visit any longer.'  
  
Licomias grinned, beckoning her over. As she slipped to his side, he said,  
  
'I'll be the judge of that, my lady.'  
  
A small sob escaped her throat, and she fell to her knees beside him, burying her face in her hands.  
  
'Jenien, what's happened?'  
  
Her sobs grew louder, shaking her tiny frame with such violence Licomias considered calling for Lewin. Instead he waited patiently for her to calm down, before lifting her chin to gaze into her eyes, ignoring the tight pain over his scar.  
  
'Tell me what has upset you.'  
  
She smiled brokenly.  
  
'I'm so sorry, Licomias,' she whispered. 'This is all my fault. If I'd waited for you to move first, you wouldn't have been injured at all.'  
  
'Shhh.'  
  
He rubbed his thumb over her lips, his hazel eyes burning into hers.  
  
'You weren't to know that orc was still out there. And I'd like to see you try and stop me when my mind is set on something.'  
  
'You saved my life,' she murmured.  
  
'And you, mine. I meant what I said, Jenien.'  
  
Her green eyes widened in wonder. Licomias took that as a good sign and plunged on.  
  
'You are my light . . . my strength . . . my love.'  
  
Fresh tears sprang up in Jenien's eyes. That's it, Licomias thought. She'll never even look at me again now.  
  
The little maiden took his hands in hers, turning them over and kissing his palms in the ancient ritual of love. As he stared in shock, she smiled happily through her tears.  
  
'I don't deserve you, Licomias. I almost got you killed. But if you'll have me . . .'  
  
Licomias felt as though his heart would burst from all the joy that was seeping through his being. He pulled Jenien to her feet, gazing up into her eyes with a deep love, the pain in his chest a distant reminder of the circumstances that had brought them to this.  
  
'Have you?' he whispered. 'A'maelamin [my beloved], I would move worlds just to hold you.'  
  
Jenien laughed joyfully, her tearstained face glistening in the moonlight. Leaning down, she brushed his lips with hers, exulting in the feel of his hands at her waist, holding her close. She would never let him go. 


	4. Grief

Soft music echoed through the trees, the bright sound of youthful laughter mingling with the gentle melody. The elves' dance drew to a close, and they separated into a circle, standing shoulder to shoulder beneath the bows of the Great Tree of Lorien. A young elf was escorted to the centre of the group, quaking under his scarlet tunic.  
  
Legolas raised an eyebrow at Licomias' terrified face.  
  
'What's wrong with you?'  
  
'What if she doesn't come?'  
  
The elven prince gave him a withering glance.  
  
'You are the best thing that has ever happened to Jenien, Licomias. I've never seen her so happy. She's not about to back away from this.'  
  
He tugged on the tunic, clicking his tongue as he returned to his place in the circle.  
  
'Good luck.'  
  
As Licomias turned, the elves parted, and Jenien stepped into the light, escorted by Thranduil. The King of Mirkwood delivered the tiny elf to her chosen one with a grin, standing back as they gazed into each other's eyes.  
  
  
  
Licomias thought his heart would burst from the love that surged through him. Jenien was more beautiful than ever before in his eyes, garbed in a gown of rich crimson, a silver circlet about her copper curls. She gazed into his eyes with a deep love, a love that consumed her entire being.  
  
Galadriel came before them, smiling down on the enamoured pair. She took their hands, placing them together.  
  
'A circle is the season of life. From birth to death, the seasons turn, and our lives turn with them. Fate has seen fit to draw Licomias and Jenien into a circle of love, from which they do not intend to break.'  
  
She drew two rings from her sleeve. The larger was silvery blue, the colour denoting Licomias' heritage as a true born of Rivendell. The smaller was sparkling green, as befitted a maiden of Mirkwood. Both were moulded as leaves, and fitted snugly about the young elves' knuckles.  
  
'With my heart, and my soul, and all the love I possess, I bind myself to you until the seasons turn, and life ends. You are my chosen one. You are my light, my strength, my love. This is my bond.'  
  
As their lips touched, the lovers felt their souls rush to meet one another, beginning the joining that would be completed that night. Galadriel drew them into her arms, surrounding them with the warmth of her love.  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
Galadriel and her maidens walked along the borders of Lothlorien, delighting in the autumn colours and crisp coolness of the air. They had good reason to be cheerful. Jenien had come out of the early months of her marriage pregnant, and was due to give birth in little under a month. She walked slowly beside the youngest of their number, Melangell, a small hand on her rounded belly.  
  
'What is it like?' Melangell asked, curiosity burning in her dark eyes.  
  
Jenien smiled indulgently.  
  
'Strange,' she admitted. 'I still find it hard to believe that there is a tiny life growing inside me. Licomias was so proud when I told him, I seriously thought he was going to kiss my feet.'  
  
Melangell gasped.  
  
'Really? Why?'  
  
Her companion laughed at her expression.  
  
'He wants a son to bond with. I wouldn't mind having either a son or a daughter, just so long as it is alive and healthy. That's all that matters.'  
  
Suddenly Jenien's head came up, as if she had heard something that was amiss. Melangell glanced about; the Lady was up ahead with the others, almost out of earshot. Jenien began to back away, fear on her face. The younger elf followed her quickly, wondering what was going on.  
  
An arrow whizzed through the air, burying itself in the tree behind them, and causing both women to shriek in fear. Orcs appeared all around them, seeming to step out of thin air. They held cruel looking weapons, advancing on the defenceless elves with murder in their eyes.  
  
Up ahead, Galadriel turned. Seeing the danger to the girls, she began to run to them, calling to the other maidens to fetch the guard. They ran, sobbing in terror, back into the Wood, afraid to look back.  
  
Jenien pulled Melangell behind her. The younger elf struggled with her.  
  
'What are you doing?'  
  
'It's me they want,' Jenien told her, never taking her eyes off the advancing orcs.  
  
The leader, a huge monstrosity with leathery green skin, laughed sickeningly.  
  
'No, elf,' it spat. 'We want him.'  
  
It pointed it's axe at Jenien's swollen belly. Her eyes widened in fear and horror.  
  
'No!'  
  
They leered at her, raising their weapons. Unable to back away any further, and with no escape route open to them, Melangell could only watch as they advanced on her friend. She leapt at the nearest orc, screaming in fear and anger, clawing at it's face. It threw the young elf to one side. Jenien turned in shock to look at Melangell, seeing her slender form slumped at the foot of a tree nearby.  
  
Pain shot through her stomach. Her head whipped back, to find an orc only inches from her, it's spear buried in her pregnant belly. As it twisted the spear, Galadriel struck, a wall of her power hitting the orcs and knocking them away from the injured elf. A patrol of elves burst from the trees, showering the orcs with arrows, cutting into their ranks with swords and daggers. Jenien fell backwards, sliding off the cruel blade that had sliced into her. As darkness clouded her vision, she felt Galadriel's presence soothe her troubled mind, working her magic on the babe inside her womb.  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
Jenien woke slowly, aware of a tight ache in her abdomen, and voices nearby that sounded like Licomias and Galadriel. As she lay there listening to the gentle lull of their voices, the full horror of what had happened began to seep into her consciousness. Tears leaked from beneath her tightly closed eyelids as her hand sought her rounded belly. Nothing; her abdomen was flat once again. Dull pain soared through her, and she barely checked the sobs that rose in her throat.  
  
Licomias was at her side in an instant, his arms about her, pulling her up into his warm embrace. Jenien clung to him like a frightened child, crying into his shoulder. The Lady watched them silently, knowing that she could not leave Licomias to break the news alone.  
  
'My baby . . .' Jenien was sobbing. 'I'm so sorry . . .'  
  
Licomias kissed her hair, a stricken look on his handsome face. He couldn't bear the thought of her blaming herself for the loss of their child. Holding her as tightly as he dared, he could only imagine what her reaction to the consequences of that loss would be.  
  
Slowly she calmed, leaning back to gaze into his eyes with a deep sorrow that cut to his heart. He looked away, unable to return the gaze.  
  
'What's wrong?'  
  
She still sounded very fragile, and yet, Licomias knew that she would never forgive him if he did not tell her what he knew she would not want to hear.  
  
'Jen, melamin, you must promise you won't leave me,' he pleaded, afraid. 'I couldn't bear life without you. Please, whatever happens, don't leave me.'  
  
Confused, Jenien frowned.  
  
'You know I won't.'  
  
'I want you to swear to me.'  
  
As Licomias pleaded with his frail wife, Galadriel watched, impressed. If Jenien swore never to leave Licomias, then even the grief she would feel overwhelm her at his terrible news would not kill her. She would be bound to his living soul, to live until the day he died.  
  
'I swear, on my heart, my body, and my soul, that I will never leave you, my Licomias. I bound my fate with yours and I intend to remain by your side for many years to come.'  
  
Her husband heaved a sigh of relief. Jenien looked from Galadriel to him suspiciously.  
  
'Will someone tell me what's going on?'  
  
'Jenien, I know you are aware of the loss of your child,' Galadriel said, steeling herself against the tears that sprang up in her young friend's eyes. 'When the spear thrust into your belly, it may have taken more than just that one life. My friend, you may never be able to bear children again.'  
  
Jenien stared at her, collapsing back onto the bed with a wail of despair. Galadriel left, feeling her heart sink as the distraught elf's cries grew louder. Her lips thinned, tightening into a line of resolve. This tragedy would not go unavenged. 


	5. Miracles

Over the months that followed, Jenien drew further and further into herself, shunning all company. She grew wan and sallow, her bright eyes often dimmed with tears. She grieved both night and day for that which could never be. Longing for death, yet bound to the one who loved her, she walked the trails of Lorien, falling slowly into darkness.  
  
Licomias suffered with her, unable to cope with the sight of his once vibrant lover falling deeper and deeper into despair. They began to argue, shouting matches that echoed about Lothlorien and always ended with one or the other walking out into the forest. Their friends tried their hardest to bring them back together, saddened by the burden of sorrow that had brought them to this.  
  
The Lorien elves mobilised in early spring, ready to go on a hunt for the orcs that had harmed their own. Licomias, after much pleading with Celeborn, was given a command among their number. He couldn't stand watching Jenien fade before his eyes.  
  
The thought of harm to her beloved husband drew the forlorn elf out of her shell. She threw herself into preparation for his departure, glimpses of her old self enjoyed by those who worked beside her. Galadriel hovered over her, glad to see her young friend returning to herself.  
  
Finally, all was ready for the elven hunt. Weapons were polished, armour shining, horses groomed. The elves were apprehensive but determined, sorrowful in their goodbyes to their loved ones.  
  
Jenien approached Licomias with a full heart.  
  
'Licomias?'  
  
He turned, the tears in his eyes testament to the love he held for her. The look seemed to last an eternity. Sobbing, Jenien threw herself into his arms. Licomias held her tightly, not wanting to let go.  
  
'Don't leave me,' Jenien was crying. 'Please, I've lost everything. Come back to me, Licomias, please . . .'  
  
'Not even the Dark Lord himself could keep me from you, a'maelamin,' he whispered, kissing her copper curls.  
  
Her tearstained face lifted to look trustingly into his.  
  
'Amin mela lle, Licomias,' she murmured.  
  
Licomias felt his heart clench inside his chest. He lowered his head and kissed her, the first kiss they had shared for months. Jenien sighed into him, her slender body pressing against him. He pulled away gently, his forehead against hers as he gazed into her green eyes.  
  
'I love you, too.'  
  
Jenien smiled softly. They sat together for many hours, neither wishing to remember that, come dawn, they would be separated from each other, perhaps never to meet in this life again.  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
The elves marched home, weary but triumphant. They had hunted down and obliterated four orc patrols in five months. Licomias' heart was singing. He could not wait until he had his Jenien in his arms once again.  
  
As they entered Lothlorien, Melangell ran to them, her golden hair flying out behind her. She clutched Licomias' arm and began to pull him down the trails, away from his home.  
  
'Melangell, what are you doing?'  
  
'You mustn't go to the cottage, Licomias!'  
  
He stopped abruptly, his face paling.  
  
'Why? What has happened?'  
  
Melangell looked stricken.  
  
'Nothing!' she protested. 'Well, something has, but it isn't bad. Please, Licomias, come with me. Jenien needs you.'  
  
Licomias, absolutely befuddled, allowed himself to be pulled along behind the agitated girl. She dragged him to the Great Tree, ushering him up the steps. At that point, he no longer needed any encouragement. He could hear Jenien crying out in pain. His thoughts raced. Was she injured? Dying?  
  
He ran through the healer's quarters to the room where her voice was coming from. As he pushed open the door, Jenien gave a loud scream of pain. Licomias froze where he stood, his eyes wondering.  
  
  
  
Suddenly, a thin wail broke the silence. Galadriel turned, a joyful smile on her face as she handed the wriggling bundle to Licomias.  
  
'You have a daughter, my friends.'  
  
Tears streamed down Licomias' face. He raised his eyes to Jenien, and found her crying tears of joy, weary but happy.  
  
'How?' he asked.  
  
She shrugged.  
  
'I don't know, a'maelamin, and I don't care,' she sighed.  
  
Licomias brought the child over to her, laying the tiny baby in her mother's arms. He kissed his little wife, gazing down at the bundle of joy that had been gifted to them.  
  
'Why didn't you tell me? Send a message?'  
  
Jenien looked up at him, sorrow behind her eyes.  
  
'I didn't want to get your hopes up in case . . . in case she died,' she told him.  
  
Licomias smiled, wrapping an arm about her slender shoulders.  
  
'Thank you,' he whispered, kissing her again. 'What's her name?'  
  
'Aniarel,' Jenien said immediately.  
  
Licomias agreed. 'Much loved', Aniarel was the perfect name for such a beloved child.  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
'Jenien?'  
  
The little mother looked up from the cradle, running to her visitor with a cry of joy. Legolas spun his friend around, overjoyed to see her again.  
  
'Legolas, what are you doing here?'  
  
He shrugged.  
  
'Just passing through, I happened to hear about the baby and I thought, why not?'  
  
Jenien laughed, playfully punching his arm. Legolas' deadpan face cracked.  
  
'Oh all right,' he conceded. 'I persuaded father to let me come and visit. Congratulations, Jen!'  
  
He hugged her again, obviously as happy as she was that her deepest wish had been granted.  
  
'Where's Licomias?'  
  
Jenien grimaced good-naturedly.  
  
'Celeborn convinced him to train the guards. He's working on the new captain at the moment.'  
  
'Who, Haldir? It'll take a lot to cram some cunning into that one.'  
  
'Now, come on,' Jenien said. 'Haldir's a very good fighter, and if anyone can teach him to be the best, Licomias can.'  
  
'So sayeth the doting wife,' Legolas intoned, 'and woe betide any who dare to disagree.'  
  
They laughed, the merry sound reminding them both of their shared childhood. Jenien persuaded Legolas to stay with them for a while, roping him into helping with the baby.  
  
The young prince got on very well with the newborn infant, able to coax a smile from her even when she was in the most awful of tempers. Aniarel soon adored him, gurgling up at his handsome face whenever he held her. Her parents watched this with fascination, all the while wary of the growing number of attacks on the borders of Lothlorien. They both knew it was no coincidence. 


	6. Farewells

Galadriel surveyed the broken bodies at her feet and looked sternly at her assembled guards.  
  
'This cannot continue!' she said, barely keeping her temper in check. 'We are the Elves' Sanctuary, we cannot have orcs entering with such ease.'  
  
She drew in a deep breath. She was not truly angry with the guards, but with herself for not having seen this coming. There was something out there, something from the East that did not wish young Aniarel to grow to maturity. The way things were going they would succeed as well.  
  
The Lady had cast auguries at the child's birth, and they had shown her that, besides being the most beloved woman ever to grace Middle-earth, from her marriage would come a child with the ability to see through all deception and deceit, and to hold such power as the Dark Lord could only dream of. Galadriel knew that whatever was trying to kill the child would succeed if steps were not taken.  
  
She glanced about at the elves around her.  
  
'Give them a proper burial,' she ordered, 'and find Jenien and Licomias. I need to speak with them.'  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
The two elves hurried along the woodland trails, hand in hand, laughing together. They reached the Lady and bowed, their smiles reflected for a moment on her lovely face. Galadriel gather Jenien in her arms, a sad expression on her regal features. Licomias looked on, a dark foreboding in his heart.  
  
'Oh, my friends, I cannot tell you how sorry I am to lay this upon you.'  
  
Jenien drew back, her expression mirroring that of her husband as he laid an arm about her shoulders.  
  
'What do you mean, Lady?'  
  
Galadriel sighed.  
  
'Where is Aniarel?'  
  
'With Legolas,' Jenien told her, her face puzzled.  
  
'Has he agreed to bind his soul to her?'  
  
Licomias nodded.  
  
'Yes, Lady. What is this about?'  
  
She gestured for them to sit beside her, taking Jenien's hands in her own.  
  
'The darkness that has been growing in my mind since Aniarel's birth has begun to seep into our lives here. I'm sure you are aware of the terrible attacks that have begun happening with frightening frequency on our borders?'  
  
They nodded, glancing at one another in confusion.  
  
'They are trying to get to Aniarel,' Galadriel told them. 'They wish to kill her.'  
  
Jenien gasped.  
  
'No,' she whispered. 'I won't let them. They won't take my child from me again.'  
  
Licomias tightened his grip on her.  
  
'We won't let them,' he corrected her.  
  
She laid her head on his shoulder, visibly shaking with the thought of losing her daughter. Galadriel gently soothed their minds.  
  
'There is only one course of action that I can think of to keep her safe. You must go away from here, to the world of men.'  
  
The two elves looked confused.  
  
'World of men?'  
  
'They call it Earth,' she explained. 'Only Men live there, in a world that is in many ways more advanced than ours. Your features would be altered slightly to help you blend in, and Aniarel's ageing accelerated.'  
  
'Is there no other option open to us?' Licomias asked her.  
  
She shook her head.  
  
'There is none, Licomias. I have thought long and hard about it, and this is the best I can come up with.'  
  
She withdrew a little way to allow them to discuss her plan. Her heart ached with the knowledge that the only way to keep them safe would be to separate them from all they knew and loved, and to throw them into a world where beauty and joy came second to money and power. She feared the world of men would destroy her fragile friend.  
  
They came over to her, hands clasped tightly together.  
  
'When must we leave?' Jenien asked, her face pale but determined.  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
Aniarel gurgled at her mother from Legolas' arms, as she flitted about, preparing herself for a new world. Licomias stood by the door, leaning against the frame. Finally, Jenien was ready. The three walked along the woodland trails, each lost in their own thoughts.  
  
Jenien was lost in her memories. Her childhood in Mirkwood, growing up with Legolas as her closest friend. Living in Rivendell with Arwen, and putting up with her friend's attempts to get her married off quickly. The journey from Rivendell to Lothlorien, in which she put aside her doubts and found love. Her wedding day. Losing her first child, only to be told she would never again bear children. Almost losing herself, but for the presence of Licomias. The hopes and fears that had wracked her through her pregnancy with Aniarel. Licomias' face when he held his daughter for the first time. And now, she was leaving the world that had made her who she was, for a world she knew nothing of and that knew nothing of her.  
  
They reached the edge of the woods, where Haldir and a few other guards waited. The couple turned to Legolas.  
  
'This is where we leave you, my friend,' Licomias said, carefully embracing the prince and relieving him of Aniarel.  
  
Jenien threw herself into Legolas' arms for the last time, sobbing into his chest. He held her tightly, trying to reassure her but failing miserably. He drew back, dashing tears from his eyes. Smiling down at his childhood companion, he said,  
  
'You take care of yourself, hear me? And the little one.'  
  
He drew her close again.  
  
'Come back, Jenien.'  
  
'I'll try,' she whispered through her tears.  
  
Stepping away from him, she wiped her eyes and wrapped Aniarel inside her cloak. With a final glance back at him, the small group melted away into the darkness.  
  
Legolas watched them go with a heavy heart. As they crept away through the trees, he couldn't help but feel that that would be the last time he would ever see his friends again . . .  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
  
Whaddya think? Obscure enough?  
  
I had to post this. I really enjoyed writing it, even if people haven't liked reading it. I'm still at a loss for sequel ideas as far as 'Unusual Heritage' goes, so any suggestions would be most welcome!  
  
With any luck I should be posting again some time in the near future! See ya! 


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